Of Music and Magic
by Celebwen Telcontar
Summary: I'm horrible at summaries. This is basically a tale about Eileen Prince's history and family, her mother in particular. Please review this story, as I need reviews for my self esteem! Rating is for violent themes later in the story and flashbacks.
1. Prologue

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Yes, I have read that Cosima Liszt was even more of an anti-Semite than Wagner was, but for this purpose, I have made Wagner have the control over their relationship rather than her. Please do not Flame me for this, because this is my own work. She was a very possessive person in reality, as she is here. Please just hear this out.

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Cosima sat heavily on the edge of her bed. She had been married to Richard for a good five years, and her three children by him, out of wedlock, were away with their nannies. She was in a prison of her own room. Richard seemed to want to control the entire household, which he was doing rather effectively.

The young woman closed her eyes. Her husband, her brutal second husband couldn't control his hatred of all who were different. He hated the Jewish community, and he also hated anything out of the ordinary. When she had married Richard, she had been deeply in love with him. He was an expert composer, and her father had approved quite nicely, after all, Franz Liszt was also a composer.

When Cosima Wagner opened her eyes, she saw that her formerly locked door was unlocked, and the slightest bit open. She gasped, and wished, fervently, to be anywhere other than where she was at this moment. Then, it felt as if she were being shoved into a tiny space. Her body felt as if it was being compressed, and she felt as if her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

Then, the strange sensation was over. Cosima was no longer in her room, but was in a street. Cobbled stones and blackened streets from the soot showed that she was in a large city. People were speaking in English, and with a heavy British accent, so Cosima assumed that she had somehow ended up in London. How, she had no idea.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright?" a kindly voice asked her. She looked into deep ebony eyes and saw that the man was a gentle-looking fellow. His long, black hair was tied in a horsetail at the base of his neck with a royal blue ribbon that matched his... robes, for lack of a better term.

"I...I vill be vell," she whispered. The man steadied her as she felt like she would fall over. "Ich werde ganz richtig sein, Sie müssen nicht mich halten, als ob ich etwas zerbrechliche Blume der Albernheit, Sie Idiot war!" she snarled at him. What had happened to her? Then, suddenly, her mind seemed to have had too much stress, and she toppled backwards in a swoon.

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Translations: _Ich werde ganz richtig sein, Sie müssen nicht mich halten, als ob ich etwas zerbrechliche Blume der Albernheit, Sie Idiot war!—_I will be alright, you don't have to hold me up as if I were some fragile flower of idiocy, you moron!

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_**Celebwen Telcontar: How was that for a prologue? **_

**_Balrog: To be honest, it's frankly quite disappointing and thoroughly pointless._**

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Balrog! Review, people. Bitte? Please?**_

**_Balrog: You speak German? Ich wusste nicht, dass Sie Deutsch sprechen! Warum erzählten Sie mir schon einmal nicht?_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Er... eh... nien? I... I don't speak German, and I never told you because I don't speak German. I didn't know that you spoke German, do you? Ich spreche Deutsch nicht. Ich spreche gerade das viel für Bitte und Dankeschön._**

_**Balrog: I see. Unfortunately, I speak fluent German. You, obviously, don't.**_


	2. Chapter I

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This is the newest chapter. I hope that I haven't stepped on anyone's metaphorical toes in order to get this written—**_

_**Balrog: Celebwen, stop the fancy jargon, and talk normally!**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This does not belong to me. If it did, then my name would be J. K. Rowling, which it definitely is not.

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Leon Prince stared at the woman he had taken home with him for lack of any other recourse. She was handsome rather than pretty, with a distinctly strong face and a nose that was almost like a hatchet's blade. Her long, dark hair was a deep chestnut brown, and was a very attractive feature. Her dress was quite long and a pale ivory, matching her pearls well. Obviously, she was upper-crust, possibly even royalty. She was a witch; after all, she _had_ Apparated directly into a side street of Hogsmeade. But she wasn't English; she was possibly German or Polish, or some other German speaking country. He didn't speak German, but he knew what the coarse language sounded like.

"Leon! Leon!" his mother cried. Her harrying tones grated on his nerves as he got up off of the chair in the room the mysterious German woman was occupying, and he raced out of the room.

"Coming, Mother!" he called in response.

"Who was that woman?"

"A witch. She's foreign, I don't know her name, but she speaks at least limited English. She Apparated directly in front of me, then fainted after yelling at me in German."

"I see. Nera! _Nera!_ Where _is_ that useless beast?!" Agrippa Prince snarled in the general vicinity of the doorway. The house elf popped into being.

"Mistress!" Nera squawked.

"Take care of the visitor in the blue guest room."

"Yes, Mistress. Nera will do." the tiny creature then left with a crack.

"If she is high society," Agrippa said carefully to her only child, "I expect her in my family. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, Mother. I will woo and seduce her if she is high society. But what if she is a mudblood?"

"Make no mistake, purity is more of an issue than money, but at the moment," Agrippa made a pained face, "we have to take the money we can get. She looks like she is wealthy; even if she is a mudblood, we can always _dispose_ of her after the deed is done and she is attached to you enough to give you the money in her will. Understand, Leon?"

"I do, Mother. Perfectly."

"Good. I must now go to a party with Comtess Marie d'Agoult. All high society is going to it. Nera!"

"Yes, Mistress?" Nera asked, popping back into the room.

"Get me my cloak." The creature did so, handing Agrippa Prince her long, deep green cloak. Then, Agrippa Apparated from the living room.

Leon then walked up to the guest room with the mystery woman in it, and entered. The woman was awake and screaming, and Nera was against the wall.

"Wo im Namen des Gottes ich sind? Was zum Teufel ist, dass und wer zum Teufel sind Sie?! Antworten Sie auf mich, Sie ungeschickter Idiot!"

"What the? Miss, please calm down!"

"Beruhigen Sie sich?! Beruhigen Sie sich?! Wen sollen Sie mir sagen zu beruhigen?! Kommen Sie hier und erzählen Sie mir, wo im Namen des Gottes wir sind?! Oh, Recht, Sie sprechen wahrscheinlich Englisch, Idiot! Ganz richtig, Idiot! Ich bin Cosima Liszt, und Sie sind? Wenn Sie Deutsch sprechen, sprechen Sie bitte jetzt!!" she snarled in what appeared to be utmost fury. "You speak Englisch, do you not, idiot!" she snapped.

"Er... yes, I do speak English. What was that which you said?"

"What is that _thing_?! Where are we? Who are you?"

"My name is Leon Prince. You are in the Prince Manor, near Lallybroch Keep, an old and dilapidated manor in Scotland. The creature there is our House-Elf, Nera. Please calm down, and tell me your name."

"I am Cosima Liszt, daughter of Comtess d'Agoult."

"Good, then you're a pureblood."

"So, what am I and how did I get here from where I was?"

"Obviously you are a witch, and you must have been raised with filthy Muggles to not know what you are. You have Apparated to Prince Manor."

"What is Apparating?"

"Apparating is moving magically from one place to another. Muggles, those... rats... with no magic and thus less reason to live, have the most inconvenient methods of transport that anyone could come up with." Leon lifted his nose in an aristocratic gesture, hoping that it would appeal to her obvious sense of needing to be above certain people. He could tell that she approved of his stance, and agreed with his assessment.

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Wo im Namen des Gottes ich sind? Was zum Teufel ist, dass und wer zum Teufel sind Sie?! Antworten Sie auf mich, Sie ungeschickter Idiot!— Where in God's name am I? What the Hell is that and who the Hell are you?! Answer me, you inept idiot!_**

**_Beruhigen Sie sich?! Beruhigen Sie sich?! Wen sollen Sie mir sagen zu beruhigen?! Kommen Sie hier und erzählen Sie mir, wo im Namen des Gottes wir sind?! Oh, Recht, Sie sprechen wahrscheinlich Englisch, Idiot! Ganz richtig, Idiot! Ich bin Cosima Liszt, und Sie sind? Wenn Sie Deutsch sprechen, sprechen Sie bitte jetzt!!—_** **Calm down?! Calm down?! Who are you to tell me to calm down?! Get over here and tell me where in God's name we are?! Oh, right, you probably speak English, moron! Alright, idiot! I'm Cosima Liszt, and you are? If you speak German, please speak now!!

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_**Celebwen Telcontar: You can tell that they are meant for each other, can you not?**_

_**Balrog: Of course. And please stop your arrogance, it is not befitting of a woman of your station.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I did not realize that you had attended finishing school. Can you tell the different bows you use when addressing a Duchess from a Countess? Please review, people!**_


End file.
